A Nightmare

I met her where the silence grew.

beneath the stone, beneath the flame

a flicker wrapped in dust and blue,

too small to speak, too real to name.

Her feet were bare, her hands were light,

her eyes held stars I used to know.

She knelt beside my shattered sight

and touched the place where dreams can’t go.

She whispered softly, as if speaking hurt,

“I used to be a steady girl,

books in my lap, songs in my throat,

a heart that danced with every world.

I talked to stars when nights felt long,

believed in quiet, gentle things

like coffee warm, and birds at dawn,

and walking slowly beneath soft wings.

I dreamt of days that held no weight,

no war, no fire, no need to run.

just peace that met me at the gate,

and let me laugh beneath the sun.”

She stayed close, her voice a thread,

trying to stitch what war undid.

She wipes the dust from off my face,

and guards the girl I almost hid.

She hums the tune I used to know,

the one I lost beneath the flame.

She whispers, “Pain is not your home,

and grief is not your only name.”

Her eyes are steady, fierce and kind,

her words press gently through my skin:

“You’ll emerge like phoenix wings at dawn

not just to live,

but rise again.”

I closed my eyes and tried to scream.

the world was fire, and the air was stone.

But then I heard my brother's voice call my name,

I wasn’t alone.

He searched through smoke and broken walls,

he called me out loud, he called me true.

And through the dark, I called him back.

My voice was ash,

but, still, it flew.

His hands pulled life from under death,

his arms became the light I found.

And in his breath, I knew it then;

I rose.

I lived.

I am safe.

Unbound.

I think...

I am a miracle

Still.